


Runaway Rebel

by Bowtiez



Series: Single Father Tony and his Son [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awesome May Parker (Spider-Man), Cute Peter Parker, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Good Parent Tony Stark, Kid Peter Parker, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Peter is a Little Shit, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Running Away, Temper Tantrums, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Worried Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 23:39:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21817354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bowtiez/pseuds/Bowtiez
Summary: After a rough day at preschool, Peter and his Daddy have a standoff. Peter; mad, sad and a little hurt, resorts to the only thing his little four-year-old mind can come up with- which is to run away from home.How's a dad like Tony supposed to feel when he find that his son is not onlynotin the pent house, but not in the tower at all? That's right, it's time to panic!or,A miscommunication between Tony and his biological four-year-old son leads to an evening of sadness, angst, fluff and then some emotional relief. Very angsty, but also adorable, ngl.**This fic has been translated to Russian! If you're interested in checking that out, this is the link: https://ficbook.net/readfic/9531110 **
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Single Father Tony and his Son [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1572058
Comments: 13
Kudos: 578
Collections: The Best Irondad/Spiderson Fics, The Best Peter Parker Whump Fics, The Best of the Best MCU Fics





	Runaway Rebel

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, welcome to another BioDad!Tony and his Kiddo!Peter fic. I've decided that I will collect a couple of these into a series since I absolutely love writing single father Tony Stark with his lil' Petey.
> 
> I thought of this little fic because I just love the idea of little children being inconvenienced by parents and deciding that the only option is to run away. 
> 
> I’ve been informed by my mom that I ran away once when I was two, all the way to my neighbor’s house after my mother made me mad or something. Not sure how common little kids running away is, but, y’know, write what you know! 
> 
> Anyways! Please enjoy the fluff and angst of a runaway child!~

“Peter Anthony Stark! I am not kidding-” the billionaire stood in the kitchen doorway, gaze focused on the small boy in the living room, “-if you throw one more toy at that wall, you are going to your room.” 

His son, usually adorable and innocent, glared at him with an intense anger he rarely saw from the four-year-old. Tony didn’t know what was going on with the brat. He’d come home from preschool that afternoon in one hell of a mood. 

Tony watched with a glare as the boy’s nose curled up, and his arm, plastic dinosaur clutched tightly in his fist, arched back, and then, with intense speed, the dinosaur slammed into the wall. 

The billionaire saw red for a second, before forcing himself to calm down. Peter was glaring at him still, hand reaching down to grab another dinosaur from the pile beside himself. 

“That’s it, Peter! You’ve had warnings. Four of them.” The man seethed, walking towards his four-year-old. “Up.” 

Peter dropped to the floor, legs kicking out and loud cries of protest leaving his lips. 

“No.” Tony narrowed his eyes at his son. “No, Peter. You're being a bad boy. Daddy warned you four times to stop throwing your toys. You need a time-out.” 

“No, no, no!” the boy sobbed, limbs flopping around as he rolled on the carpet. 

Finally, when the boy curled his lip up in anger at Tony, the billionaire picked the boy up by under the arms and held him at arm's length as he walked down the hallway to the boy’s bedroom. 

Peter kicked in the air and screamed. Tears streamed down his face. The kid made noises the billionaire had never heard before, screeching and squawking as Tony pushed the bedroom door open with his shoulder. 

“That’s enough!” Tony spoke loudly, but didn’t yell. It got Peter’s attention, who stopped kicking, “you need to calm down, Peter. We don’t get to throw toys. That’s not allowed. We are not allowed to throw things in the house.” 

He set Peter down on the toddler bed the boy slept in. 

Peter curled his nose up at his dad, huffing out another sob. His little hand grabbed a stuffed toy from the bed. He pulled it into himself before drawing his arm back and launching the toy at his father. 

The toy bounced off Tony’s chest and he stared at the boy, irritation radiating off his frame. 

“You get fifteen minutes of time-out,” Tony narrowed his eyes at the child, “and if you’re still being a brat, when I come check on you, you’ll get even more.” 

“No!” 

“Fifteen minutes,” Tony repeated his hand settling on the light switch, “you better stay in this room, Peter. I’m not kidding.” 

“No!” 

The billionaire rolled his eyes, flicking the lights in the room off. He moved out of the room as Peter flopped over on his bed in full out tantrum mode. The billionaire didn’t shut Peter's door all the way, since Peter wasn’t a fan of the dark. It was open just enough for the light from the hallway to stream in through the crack and barely supply enough light to see Peter’s form on the bed. 

Thankfully, as Tony stepped down the hallway, Peter’s cries quieted. Maybe the boy would just fall asleep for a while until dinner. 

Despite the boy being a jerk, Tony was still making spaghetti for dinner, which was one of Peter’s favorite meals. With a sigh, the billionaire ran his fingers through his hair and began gathering the ingredients. He could at least get started before Peter’s fifteen minutes were up. 

\---- 

Peter glared at his bedroom door. His thumb buried in his mouth, and arm wrapped around his bear. Tesoro’s soft fur was doing little to calm him down. 

Daddy was being so mean. He was in time-out because he threw his toys at the wall. He was just mad, why couldn’t Daddy see that? 

Eugene had broken his toy at school, and now he didn’t have the cool robot toy his daddy made for him. Peter’s glazed eyes shifted to his backpack where a piece of busted robot could be seen sticking out the side. 

Daddy clearly didn’t love him anymore, if he was being put in a time-out. And, Daddy was mad. 

Tears welled in Peter’s eyes as he suckled harder on his thumb. It also wasn’t calming him down. He gave a quiet sob as he slipped off his bed, Tesoro clutched tightly to his chest. 

Maybe Daddy was right, he was a brat. Maybe he should just leave? Daddy didn’t need him around being a brat. Daddy was very busy, and Peter had been bothering him, and throwing things and... he was being a brat. 

“Fry?” Peter whispered, wiping his teary cheeks on the fabric of his long-sleeve shirt. 

“Yes, Boss Junior?” the voice in the ceiling responded. 

“Where’s Daddy?” 

“Boss is in the kitchen, Peter. Would you like me to get him for you?” 

“Uh, no.” Peter shook his head, “Fry, Imma go. You’re not allowed to tell Daddy. ‘kay?” 

It was silent for a second, Friday not responding for a second. “Boss doesn’t like you leaving the premises without an adult,” Friday responded, voice quiet, “are you certain you don’t want to talk to boss?” 

“No tell, Fry,” Peter reminded, “Daddy’s mad.” 

“Peter-” Friday tried. 

“No tellin’.” Peter’s face scrunched up, cutting the ceiling off. 

Another moment of silence before, “of course, Boss Junior.” 

Peter nodded to himself, securing his hold on Tesoro. He carefully pushed his bedroom door open, it didn’t squeak and Peter didn’t hear any footsteps, so he continued on. The front door to the penthouse was on the other side from the kitchen, so it was easy for Peter to slip out. 

He slipped on his light-up sneakers, but didn’t bother with a jacket. 

Friday was usually in charge of the elevators, but there were also buttons, in case Friday was down for maintenance. So, Peter pushed the ground floor button and waited. Friday didn’t say anything to him, and Peter was happy about that. 

It was only when the elevator doors opened on the ground floor, that the child started getting nervous. He’d never left the Tower by himself. He’d always had Daddy, or Pepper, or uncle Rhodey, or even Happy with him, but now he was alone. 

He stepped out of the elevator, and made a beeline for the doors that led outside. 

Peter was going to Pepper’s house, or maybe Happy’s. He’d been to both, but didn’t really remember where they were. He’d find one of them though. 

The air outside was chilly. Far colder than it had been when Peter and his Daddy had returned for the evening after work and preschool. Peter shivered as he shuffled down the busy street. Adults walked by, but none paid him any mind. 

Everyone was bigger than he was, and they were all moving so quickly. When Peter started having second thoughts about leaving, he was brushed into a moving group of people and pushed forward to keep up, lest he get trampled by those behind him. 

His eyes watered as he was shuffled alone with the group, surrounded by adults all moving along. None noticed him, and if they did, no one said anything. 

When Peter managed to break out of the group, he didn’t know where he was. He was lost, and the only thing he wanted was his Daddy. Peter hugged Tesoro to his chest, burying his face in the bear’s soft fur. 

Peter stood in place for a moment, feet planted in spot as he chewed on his bottom lip. His eyes welled with tears, and he cried quietly into Tesoro’s fur. 

He hadn’t meant to get lost. He’d gotten stuck in the group of adults, just brushed along as he tripped over his own feet in order to keep up and not get trampled. 

Everywhere Peter looked, was legs. Legs of strangers, people triple his own height and moving fast to their destination. Peter drew in a breath, turning swiftly on his heels and barreling himself into the nearest corner shop. 

The bell above the door clattered as he shoved his way in past the door, breath heavy and cheeks tear stained. Scattered around him sat tables and chairs. The child had been to a corner shop like this before. It was a café. Daddy liked to stop and pick up coffee and fancy scones whenever he took Peter to preschool, but he’d never been to this one before. 

Peter shifted his eyes around the small café, tightening his hold on poor Tesoro, who was beyond afraid. 

“Welcome,” a nice voice asked softly. Peter turned abruptly, ready to break into a sprint towards the door. The woman, nice looking with glasses, smiled over the counter, “you look like you’re a little lost, honey. Where’s your mommy and daddy?” 

“I-I runned away,” Peter squeezed his eyes shut, whimpering his explanation slowly, “m’ daddy’s mad at me...” 

“Oh dear,” the woman frowned, she slowly came around the side of the counter, afraid to spook the child and have him take off. Peter inched back as the woman drew closer, burying his nose in Tesoro’s face, but keeping his eyes on her. “It’s alright,” she smiled, “it’s okay to be afraid. I won’t hurt you though.” 

Despite how nice she seemed, Peter couldn’t help but be hesitant about everything. His Daddy had always told him that if he ever got lost, that he shouldn’t talk to strangers. To find a police officer and ask him for help. 

“My daddy says ‘m not supposed to talk to strangers,” Peter’s voice was soft, barely dragging his face an inch from Tesoro’s fur so he could be understood. Daddy never liked him mumbling into his toys. “If we’re lost we find a police officer,” the boy recited what had been ingrained into his mind over his four years. 

“That’s a good rule to have,” May gave a firm nod, smiling down at the boy, “you know, my husband is a police officer?” 

Peter’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “He’s out working, so he’s not home right now.” She paused for a second, thinking quickly, “I know I’m not a police officer, but I’m sure I can help you find your daddy?” 

“I want my daddy,” Peter frowned into Tesoro’s fur. He lifted a fist to brush away the tears in his eyes. 

The woman eyed Peter, frowning down at the boy. Peter shivered where he stood. His light-up shoes were wet now, and his feet were freezing. He wished he had of worn his coat. 

“How about we have a nice hot chocolate to warm up?” the woman suggested, “we can sit at a table together and have a talk, hmm? You like hot chocolate, right?” 

Peter stared for a second before slowly rocking his head in a nod. He stepped closer to the woman, following stiffly behind her as she returned to behind the counter and started playing around with a big machine that was kind of like DUM-E and U from his daddy’s lab. 

“Did you want something to eat, honey? Have you had dinner yet?” 

Peter slowly shook his head, little hands reaching up to settle on the edge of the counter and standing on his tippy toes to see what the woman was doing. 

“Hmm, no dinner?” the woman tilted her head in thought, “that just can’t do. How about we have a muffin? We have the world’s best muffins here; would you like to try one?” 

Peter nodded hesitantly. He was really hungry. Peter watched as she pulled two muffins from a display case, giving Peter a quick smile before turning back to the machine sputtering as if it were about to explode. 

“Tesoro’s hungry too,” Peter whispered, and the woman turned to Peter, eyeing him. 

“Oh? Is that your little friend?” her eyes drifted to the bear in Peter’s arms, “would he like a muffin too?” 

Another nod from Peter had the woman adding a third muffin to the plate of two. 

In no time, the woman was leading Peter over to a table and chair set by the window. She set the plate and a mug of hot chocolate decked with whipped cream and sprinkles down. 

“You sit down, I’ll be right back.” 

Peter did sit, pulling himself and Tesoro into the chair and pulling the lukewarm hot chocolate towards himself. It was really good. Peter smacked his lips, then licked his upper lip where some whipped cream had gotten stuck. 

When the woman returned, she was holding a mug of tea. Pepper drank tea, sometimes she’d let him have a sip, but he didn’t like it very much. He watched the woman slide into the chair opposite him, take a muffin off the plate and then slide the remaining two over to Peter. 

Peter stared at the muffins for a second before finally reaching up and grabbing a muffin. 

“Wait, before you eat, you’re not allergic to anything, are you sweetheart?” 

“Um, fish,” Peter tilted his head, “and kitties.” 

“Good, there’s no fish or kitties in that muffin.” Peter giggled, picking a piece of the muffin off and slipping it into his mouth. “So, I’ve met Tesoro, but I haven’t met you. My name’s May. May Parker, what’s your name, honey?” 

“Peter,” the boy whispered. He was sure he could trust May. She was nice, and her husband was a police man. 

“Peter,” May smiled, biting her own muffin, “so, why’d you run away from home, Peter?” 

“I-I was... I was throwin’ my dinos at the wall, an’ an’ daddy got mad cause we’re not suppos’ to be throwin’ toys in the house.” Peter bit his bottom lip, tearing up, “I was bein’ a bad boy... and daddy put me in time out.” 

“Oh no,” May frowned, sipping her tea, “why were you throwing your toys?” 

“Eugene broke my robot,” Peter teared up, “daddy maked it for me... and I wasn’t suppos’ to bring him to preschool... Daddy said no... but I did, and now he’s broken, and daddy’s mad at me cause I was bad...” Peter sobbed, pulling Tesoro into his arms and burying his face in the bear’s fur again. 

“Oh, honey,” May frowned, “I’m sure your daddy won’t be too mad. You know, I bet your daddy is so worried right now.” 

“He is?” Peter swallowed, looking up from his bear. 

“Oh, I’m sure.” May nodded seriously, “I know if I lost my little boy, I’d be so scared.” 

“I want Daddy,” Peter whispered again. He didn’t feel like eating anymore, despite how good the muffin was. 

“I know, honey,” May sighed, “do you know your daddy’s name? Or maybe where you live? Could we take you home?” 

“Um...” Peter shook his head. He didn’t know where the tower was, “we live in a tall house,” Peter explained, chewing on his bottom lip. 

“Peter, honey, do you know your last name?” 

“Mhm,” Peter brightened, he did know that one. He knew his name and could write it too. Daddy had been super happy when Peter learned how to do that. “Peter Stark!” 

“Peter Stark?” May looked shocked, “Peter, sweetie, is your... is your daddy Tony Stark?” Tony Stark was a well know name. The man who owned at least three towers around Manhattan and donated a lot of money to charities. And... now that May thought about it, this kid looked like Stark. Practically a mini Stark. 

She had Peter Stark in her bakery. 

“Yeah!” Peter grinned. That was his daddy’s name. He just forgot sometimes. That was what uncle Rhodey, Happy and Pepper all called his daddy. “That’s daddy!” 

“Do you know Daddy’s phone number, Peter?” It was one of the last resorts. There was absolutely no way that anyone at Stark industries would take her seriously and put her through to Miss Potts or Mister Stark. And Miss Potts and Mister Stark’s personal phone numbers weren’t disclosed to the general public. 

The last resort would be walking the boy back to the tower that Tony and his son lived in, which was dead center New York. It was actually quite a walk from the bakery, and May was a little concerned about how Peter got this far. 

Peter paused, thinking it over. He racked his brain for any numbers and grinned brightly when he remembered the one both Pepper and Daddy had been teaching him. “Yeah! Daddy told me that.” 

“Perfect,” May smiled, “let’s call your daddy then.” 

\---- 

Time seemed to get away from the man. Before Tony knew what was happening, the pasta water was boiling over, and he hadn’t mixed it, so all the noodles were stuck together and stuck to the bottom of the pot. 

He couldn’t hear anything coming from Peter’s bedroom, so he just assumed that the four-year-old had really fallen asleep for a bit of a nap before dinner. The man let out a quiet breath, stirring the pasta in the pot. When it was soft enough to the four-year-old's standards, the billionaire drained it and threw it back in the pot with the sauce. 

He dumped the contents of the pot in a baking dish, covering the top with some cheese and then sliding it in the hour to bake for a while. Peter loved baked spaghetti, and it was easy for Tony to make, which was a plus. 

He read a little on his Stark Pad, answering emails, enjoying the quietness of a napping young child. When his timer finally dinged, the billionaire pulled his dish from the oven and let it cool for a moment. 

When it was cool enough that the cheese wouldn’t just slide off, he spooned a small bowl for Peter, then spooned a larger one for himself as well. He sprinkled both with a bit more cheese, setting them on the table to cool a little while he went to get Peter. 

When the meal was ready for them to eat, sat cooling and waiting, the billionaire finally made his way down the hallway to his son’s bedroom. 

He pushed the door open with a small smile, “Bambino,” he flicked the lights on, “how was your-” 

_Empty_. 

Tony gaped, eyes shooting around the room for any sign of the child. But Peter wasn’t in any of his usual bedroom hiding spots. The closet was lacking a small child and the only resident under the bed was a frog plush toy. 

“Pete?” the man called. Maybe Peter had made his way into the living room while he’d been busy? With hurried steps, the billionaire found himself in the living room. 

_No_. 

“Peter?” The bathroom maybe? He jogged down the hall, throwing the door open- 

_Empty_. 

“Peter Anthony Stark, you get out here right here.” Tony ignored the waver in his voice, listening desperately for little giggles or the patter of small feet, but all he heard was straining silence. 

The silence carried one, and the man felt his heart plummet to his feet, “Friday, where’s Peter?” 

“Mini Boss left the penthouse forty-seven minutes ago, sir-” 

“He what?” 

“Master Peter continued out of the tower and out of range of my detection fifty minutes ago.” 

“He...” Tony took a stuttered breath, “he left the tower?” The man could feel his skin paling and his heart beating hurriedly in his chest, “why didn’t you tell me!?” 

“Master Peter requested I not inform you.” 

“Friday,” the man gritted his teeth, swallowing hard, “for what reason would you not tell me that Peter left the tower? That my four-year-old son left my tower without an adult?” 

“It is in my coding that I am to make sure Master Peter is taken care of. Young boss was in distress when he requested you not be informed-” 

“You know what, whatever, Friday. It doesn’t even matter right now-” he’d apparently need to do some serious upgrade on Friday and really specify the importance of him knowing where his child is, “-I’ve, oh god, just... Patch me through to Pepper and Happy. Now. Dammit, Fri.” 

After a short call between both Pepper and Happy, the man was on the streets. Almost an hour. Peter had left the tower almost hour ago. And he was just hear of it now. So much could happen in an hour. 

_Oh God_. 

People knew what Peter looked like. People knew who he was. Someone could... Children get kidnapped all the time- and Peter was out there all by himself. The man squeezed his eyes shut as he shouted his son’s name once more. And the fact that Peter was Tony’s and the man was worth billions, made Peter even more of a target. 

He, Happy and Pepper had all split up to cover places Peter knew and liked. Happy was at central Park, which was where Peter begged to be taken when he and Tony had a day to themselves. Pepper was checking in with the police, making sure no one had brought him into the station or called in about a child being found, and Tony himself was jogging up the street the Tower was on. 

There weren’t many places Peter would go. 

Tony bit his tongue as he swallowed down his tears. He was so scared. Peter could be hurt, or worse, and he’d just noticed the boy was gone. That his child was gone. Peter was only four years old. 

As the minutes ticked forwards and Tony was slowly growing more restless. Peter had been gone for almost two hours now. Happy had covered the entirety of central park’s playground, the duck pond and Peter’s favorite trails, and Pepper reported back that no missing child had turned up at the police station, and assured that she would get a call the second any did. 

The man was so close to pulling his own hair out. 

He couldn’t believe he’d lost Peter. That he’d... he’d put his son in his room and left him for a whole hour. He hadn’t gone to check on Peter. He’d... he’d assumed his boy was asleep. Peter had left the penthouse, and Tony had assumed he was just asleep. That the silence was completely normal. 

Which it usually was. Peter would usually crash after having a meltdown like the one he had in the living room. But he should've... He could’ve known that something was right with Peter. He should’ve checked on his kid. 

When reaching another dead end on his searching, and getting nothing but confused and irritated looks from those walking on the sidewalks as he shouted his son’s name, the billionaire was just about ready to get Rhodey and his army friends involved in the search. 

Tony cursed under his breath, giving a humorless laugh as he brushed tears from his eyes. It was as he went to turn around and start searching in a different direction that his cellphone vibrated in his pocket. 

_Unknown Number_. 

Huh. It wasn’t unusual for Tony to have an unknown number calling him. Sometimes his number got leaked, or someone would get their hands on it. It was more common now that Peter was around. 

The man debated not answering it, but then thought that maybe, maybe it was the police- that they knew where his boy was. 

“Hello?” He knew he sounded hoarse. And for good reason. He’d been shouting his child’s name at the top of his lungs for over an hour. 

“Is this... Tony Stark?” the voice sounded calm, determined. The man cleared his throat, dragging a hand down his face. Of course, it was a fan. The one time he really, really needs it to be something relating back to his child, a random person gets his number and decides to give it a try. See if it really reaches a billionaire. 

“Look, I don’t have time for this right now-” 

“Mister Stark, your son, Peter, he’s here with me.” 

The man froze. 

Stopped dead in the middle of New York’s busy foot-traffic. Someone ran into his back, promptly told him off, then stepped aside to continue on his way, but the billionaire could only hear this woman’s voice ringing in his ears. 

“You have him?” the man whispered into the phone when he could hear his own thoughts over his erratic heartbeat. 

“Yes, he’s... he’s been here with me for a while. I just managed to get this number from him. He was very cautious of me,” the woman explained. A small, thankful smile spread on Tony’s face, then a light flutter of pride gnawed at him with the thought that Peter was stranger cautious. He’d done something right with the kid. 

“My name is May Parker. Peter is safe and sound here,” May continued when Tony didn’t respond, “Mister Stark?” 

“Yes, yes. God, he’s... oh my god. He was just gone, I thought he was asleep-” 

“It’s alright,” the woman on the other end of the call cautioned, “take a breath, Mister Stark.” 

The man took a stuttered breath, swallowing hard as he blinked away his tear, “yea. Where... where are you?” 

“Peter managed to get himself to my café, Baristas-” Tony knew the café. Happy liked their coffee, and often grabbed him one when he went for one for himself. It was quite a way from the tower, and that thought alone had Tony biting his bottom lip. 

“That’s... god, that’s far. How’d he?” the man pulled himself from his stupor, “it doesn’t matter right now, I’ll be there in ten... he’s... he’s alright, right?” 

“Yes,” Tony could hear the smile in her voice, “he’s just fine.” 

“Oh, thank god,” Tony breathed a sigh of relief, “okay. Okay, I’ll be there in ten. Thank you. Thank you so much.” 

Tony had hung up after that, spinning on his heels and jogging in the opposite direction. He texted quick messages to Pepper and Happy that someone found Peter. The woman had to have Peter, no one knew Peter was missing except the police, himself and Happy and Pepper. 

The little café was sat on a busy street corner. It was ideal for business. Tony paused with his hand on the door, attempting to steady his rapid heart before pulling the door open and stepping in. The open sign had been turned to closed, but the door was unlocked and the lights still on. 

“Mister Stark,” the same voice greeted. 

“Where’s-” Tony followed May’s gaze to his son, asleep, slouched across a table. Tesoro was pillowing his head, and his thumb was nudged past his lips. A plate in the center of the table held a muffin and beside that there was half eaten muffin. 

The man was quick to step to his kid, gathering Peter’s sleeping form into his arms and hugging him close. He breathed in the smell of his son, pushing his nose into Peter’s curls and pressing a series of shaken kisses to the crown of his son’s head. 

“Bambino,” Tony breathed, blinking back relieved tears, “oh, Bambino, my son. Never again, sweetheart.” Tony rocked with his son in his arms, more so to calm himself than Peter, who was slowly waking up. 

“Daddy?” Peter’s tired voice questioned, nuzzling into Tony’s sweater. 

“Hi, baby. You’re okay. You’re okay, right, honey?” 

“’m okay,” Peter’s sleep hazed mouth mumbled, “wanna go home, Daddy...” 

“We will,” Tony breathed against Peter’s head, “we’ll go home, baby. I just have to talk to May for a second, okay, sweetheart?” 

“Hm’okay’daddy,” Peter lulled his head to Tony’s shoulder, nuzzling his nose into Tony’s neck. 

“Nice to meet you, Mister Stark,” May called from behind the counter. She was wiping it down with a cloth, smiling fondly at the two. 

“I’m... I’m so sorry,” Tony swallowed, “I’m so sorry, but I’m so thankful that you took him in.” 

“Sorry?” May tilted her head, “sorry for what?” 

“I should’ve... I thought he was asleep. He was in time out, I thought he would have fallen asleep... I should’ve known. It’s my fault... It was too quiet, I should hav-” 

“Nonsense,” May broke Tony from his rambling. The man tightened his hold on his son and Peter gave a happy sigh in his sleep. “There’s nothing you could have done differently. Sometimes kids just get it into their heads that the best option is to run away,” the woman looked down at her counter, “which of course isn’t. 

“Peter’s young. He made a mistake, and he knew it; was petrified when he ran in here. All he wanted was you. Wouldn’t talk to me, told me he was only supposed to talk to officers if he’s ever lost. My husband’s been in the precinct for years, and that seemed to gain a little of his trust, but he was still hesitant.” May smiled, “he’s a good kid. He’s got a good head on his shoulders.” 

Tony reached up to run his fingers through Peter’s curls, then let his cheek settle on the top of his kid’s head. He couldn’t in this moment fathom putting his son down again. Not when he’d spent hours worried and searching- fearing for the worst. 

He pressed another lingering kiss to Peter’s head at just the thought. 

“He’s never... he’s never just left before,” the man informed quietly, sitting himself in the chair Peter had been asleep in, “I don’t...” 

“He was just scared,” May took a seat across from him, sliding a black coffee towards him. She had a tea in her hands. 

“Scared?” Tony looked up in surprise, “scared of what?” 

“Some kid at his school broke one of his toys... He said you made it for him and that you would be mad.” May shrugged lightly as she stirred some sugar into her tea, eyes lifting to Tony. 

For a second, the man drew a blank. Then his mind caught up. The robot was just a small something Tony had made when he was bored in his lab one evening. Peter had been thrilled by it. It had only walked in circles, but Peter loved it. 

He had told Peter it couldn’t go to preschool with him, since it really wasn’t a toy for a room of three-to-four-year-olds, and he knew the possibility it would’ve gotten broken was high. 

This, also explained the tantrum. Peter had been mad the toy was broken, and Tony hadn’t even realized. Peter loved each and every toy, so it probably made him sad as well. Peter was still young enough that he didn’t really know how to pursue his emotions. 

And if he’d disobeyed him about bringing the toy to school, Peter wasn’t openly going to admit his anger and sadness of the situation. And maybe he had been a little afraid to tell Tony. Just because he’d been bad and didn’t want a punishment. 

The man looked down at his son, sleeping soundly in his lap, curled against his chest. 

“He wasn’t supposed to bring that to school,” Tony supplied, “it wasn’t really durable- Peter's... he’s just such a gentle kid. And others... well, they aren’t.” 

The man wiped his eyes with his thumb and index fingers of his left hand, the one that wasn’t holding Peter in place, “he was just having a bad day a guess. He sadly got his problem-solving skills from me.” 

May laughed at that, covering her mouth and then looking down at Peter. 

“He’s a good kid,” May reminded. 

“He is,” Tony agreed. “Damn near gave me a heart attack when he wasn’t in the house.” 

“I can imagine,” May gave Peter a fond smile, “he’s always welcomes here though. My husband and I live just upstairs. And I have your number now.” 

“That you do,” Tony managed a small smile. 

“He was quite proud that he remembered it,” May laughed, “good on him for it though.” 

“We’ve only been repeating it to him for months,” the man gave a chuckle of his own, “just when he gets it, I always have to change it. But I’ll be sure to shoot you a text beforehand in case this,” he gestured to the table of Peter’s snacks, “happens again.” 

By the time Tony finished his coffee, and May her tea, Peter was still sleeping soundly in Tony’s arms. It was late though, later than Peter usually went to bed. 

“I should... get him home,” the billionaire told the woman without looking up from his sleeping child. “It’s late and he’s got school tomorrow. Thank you for feeding him, and taking care of him- really, I can’t thank you enough...” 

May waved her hand, stacking the mugs on the plate beside the discarded muffins, “I’m happy to help. He really is a great kid, Mister Stark-” 

“It’s Tony, please,” 

“Tony, he’s a lovely boy, Tony.” May smiled, ruffling Peter’s hair carefully. Tony stood after her, shrugging his jacket off to wrap around the sleeping boy. Peter curled into his, eye lids fluttering with the movement. 

Tony saw Happy’s headlights flash in the darkness outside the window. He’d texted the man just ten minutes ago to pick them up. It was too cold to be walking around with Peter this late. And way too cold for the boy either way. 

“Once again, thank you.” the man repeated, despite May’s words. He grabbed Tesoro, who had slipped from Peter’s grasp. He adjusted Peter and his coat to shield his son from the chilled air. May smiled from where she was standing behind the counter. 

“Goodnight, Tony.” 

“Goodnight, May.” 

And if Tony made an effort to bring Peter to the Baristas Café a couple times a week just to see his son light up when he saw May or her husband Ben behind the counter (after a background check on the two, of course), he wouldn’t tell anyone. And if they smiled just as brightly, who was he to say anything? 

They simply had good coffee...

**Author's Note:**

> As a bit of a note, I don't have kids. I'm not sure if I captured a parent's panic of their kid going missing, or the mindset of a four-year-old (it's been a while since I was four), so, apologies if anything doesn't seem right. 
> 
> Nonetheless, I hope you enjoyed reading, because I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> As always, comments are very greatly appreciated! Anything you're willing to give me I'll take in stride! Each and every comment from you guys makes my day and motivates me to keep writing! Kudos and bookmarks are also amazing!
> 
> Thank you for reading! <3


End file.
